one of its corners around his feet. He came down on his face, half inside the room and half in the garden. The piano and the dining table both bore down on him. He scrambled up and bolted. Iâve never seen anyone run so fast.
The table was after him like a shot, but the piano got its rear caster stuck on the sill. It must be very awkward having to gallop with only one leg at the back. I went to help it, but the faithful piano stool and my favorite chair got there first and heaved it free. Then it hunched its wide front part and fairly shot across the garden and out into the road after the flying Angus Flint. The chairs and tables all set out, too, bravely bobbling and trundling. Last of all went Menace, barking as if he were doing all the chasing single-handed.
I donât know what the other people in the street thought. The dining table collided with a lamppost halfway down the street and put itself out of the running. But the piano got up speed wonderfully and was hard on Angus Flintâs heels as he shot into the next street. After that we lost them. We were too busy collecting exhausted tables and chairs, which were strewn all down the street. The piano stool had only got as far as the garden gate, and my favorite chair broke a caster getting through the window. We had to carry them back to the house. And there was a fair amount of tidying up to do indoors, what with the books, the carpets, and Coraâs bed.
Coraâs bed, probably the most insulted piece of furniture in the house, must have been frantic to get at Angus Flint, too. It had forced itself halfway through the bedroom door and then stuck. We had a terrible job getting it back inside the room. We had just done it and were wearily trying to mend the dining tableâwhich has never been the same sinceâwhen we heard twanging and clattering noises coming from the sitting room. We were in time to see the piano come plodding back through the window and put itself in its usual place. It looked tired but satisfied.
âDo you think itâs eaten him?â Pip said hopefully.
The piano didnât say. But it hadnât. Mum and Dad came back, and we were all cheerfully having a cup of tea when Angus Flint suddenly came shooting downstairs. We think he climbed up the drainpipe in order not to meet the piano again. I suspect that Coraâs bed was rather glad to see him.
âIâm just leaving,â Angus Flint said.
It was music to our ears! He went straight out to his car, too, carrying his suitcase. We all came out to say polite good-byeâor polite good-riddance, as Tony put it.
âIâve had a wonderful time,â Angus Flint said. âHereâs a football for you, Pip.â And he held out to Pip a flat orange thing. It was Pipâs own football, but it was burst. âAnd this is for you,â he said to Tony, handing him a fistful of broken plastic. Then he said to me, âIâm giving you some paper.â And he gave me one sheet of my own paper. One sheet! Iâd had a whole new block.
âI do hope Coraâs bed bit you,â I said sweetly.
Angus Flint gave me the Stare for that, but it wasnât as convincing as usual, somehow. Then he got into his car and drove away. Actually drove away and didnât come back. We cheered.
Itâs been so peaceful since. Mum wondered whether to sell the new tables, but we wouldnât let her. They are our faithful friends. As for the piano, well, Pip has decided heâs going to be a genius at something else instead. His excuse for giving up lessons is that Miss Hawksmooreâs false teeth make her spit on his hands when sheâs teaching him. They do. But the real reason is that heâs scared of the piano. Iâm not. I love it more than that coward Menace, even, and Iâm determined to work and work until Iâve learned how to play it as it deserves.
Other Works
ALSO BY
Diana Wynne Jones
Archerâs Goon
Aunt
The table was after him like a shot, but the piano got its rear caster stuck on the sill. It must be very awkward having to gallop with only one leg at the back. I went to help it, but the faithful piano stool and my favorite chair got there first and heaved it free. Then it hunched its wide front part and fairly shot across the garden and out into the road after the flying Angus Flint. The chairs and tables all set out, too, bravely bobbling and trundling. Last of all went Menace, barking as if he were doing all the chasing single-handed.
I donât know what the other people in the street thought. The dining table collided with a lamppost halfway down the street and put itself out of the running. But the piano got up speed wonderfully and was hard on Angus Flintâs heels as he shot into the next street. After that we lost them. We were too busy collecting exhausted tables and chairs, which were strewn all down the street. The piano stool had only got as far as the garden gate, and my favorite chair broke a caster getting through the window. We had to carry them back to the house. And there was a fair amount of tidying up to do indoors, what with the books, the carpets, and Coraâs bed.
Coraâs bed, probably the most insulted piece of furniture in the house, must have been frantic to get at Angus Flint, too. It had forced itself halfway through the bedroom door and then stuck. We had a terrible job getting it back inside the room. We had just done it and were wearily trying to mend the dining tableâwhich has never been the same sinceâwhen we heard twanging and clattering noises coming from the sitting room. We were in time to see the piano come plodding back through the window and put itself in its usual place. It looked tired but satisfied.
âDo you think itâs eaten him?â Pip said hopefully.
The piano didnât say. But it hadnât. Mum and Dad came back, and we were all cheerfully having a cup of tea when Angus Flint suddenly came shooting downstairs. We think he climbed up the drainpipe in order not to meet the piano again. I suspect that Coraâs bed was rather glad to see him.
âIâm just leaving,â Angus Flint said.
It was music to our ears! He went straight out to his car, too, carrying his suitcase. We all came out to say polite good-byeâor polite good-riddance, as Tony put it.
âIâve had a wonderful time,â Angus Flint said. âHereâs a football for you, Pip.â And he held out to Pip a flat orange thing. It was Pipâs own football, but it was burst. âAnd this is for you,â he said to Tony, handing him a fistful of broken plastic. Then he said to me, âIâm giving you some paper.â And he gave me one sheet of my own paper. One sheet! Iâd had a whole new block.
âI do hope Coraâs bed bit you,â I said sweetly.
Angus Flint gave me the Stare for that, but it wasnât as convincing as usual, somehow. Then he got into his car and drove away. Actually drove away and didnât come back. We cheered.
Itâs been so peaceful since. Mum wondered whether to sell the new tables, but we wouldnât let her. They are our faithful friends. As for the piano, well, Pip has decided heâs going to be a genius at something else instead. His excuse for giving up lessons is that Miss Hawksmooreâs false teeth make her spit on his hands when sheâs teaching him. They do. But the real reason is that heâs scared of the piano. Iâm not. I love it more than that coward Menace, even, and Iâm determined to work and work until Iâve learned how to play it as it deserves.
Other Works
ALSO BY
Diana Wynne Jones
Archerâs Goon
Aunt
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